


Pun'kin Pie Spice

by ditchwitch323



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), Harley Quinn (Cartoon 2019), Harley Quinn (Comics), Poison Ivy (Comics)
Genre: COVID, Depression, F/F, Fluff, Girlfriends - Freeform, Insomnia, Quarantine, SO MUCH FLUFF, Swearing, angst I guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26588665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ditchwitch323/pseuds/ditchwitch323
Summary: Ivy can't sleep.
Relationships: Harleen Quinzel & Pamela Isley, Harleen Quinzel/Pamela Isley, Harley Quinn & Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn/Poison Ivy
Comments: 9
Kudos: 94





	Pun'kin Pie Spice

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the beginning of this at 2:30 am. I didn't mean for it to become a means to process covid, but that's basically what it became. So if you're looking for total escapism, this... probably isn't what you're wanting.

Ivy let out a heavy breath. It had been two and a half hours since they went to bed at midnight, after the Family Feud marathon had ended. And she still couldn’t sleep.

The room was dark. But it was that night-time darkness that isn’t totally black, or empty. There was life to it -- a glowing, faint light from the street-lamps below floating up and through their lace curtains.

And it was warm. Air from the heater mixed with the chilled breeze from a crack in the window, so it felt like inside and outside all together at once. Harley had one leg hooked on top of the covers and a hand splayed out across the sheets, resting on Ivy’s hip. A single point of contact, a tether.

Ivy rolled to face her completely. She watched Harley’s chest rising and falling with breath, her eyelashes fluttering in a dream. Then she let out a whimper -- and for a moment Ivy feared it was another bad dream – but a second later, Harley grinned. Then snored.

One thing Ivy knew about her girlfriend: she slept like the dead. No amount of tossing and turning or loud sighs from Ivy would wake her up.

“Harley.”

Ivy reached out and touched her shoulder gently… “Harley.”

Still nothing. 

_Maybe there’s still melatonin in the medicine cabinet._

It was worth a shot. Ivy turned again, sliding out of bed as quietly as she could. She was four steps away from the bathroom when she heard Harley’s half-asleep, confused voice.

“Red?”

“I’m here.”

Not bothering to lift her head up, Harley stretched out a hand and twitched her fingers. “Come back.”

Ivy’s chest warmed. She padded to Harley’s side of the bed and took a seat on the edge, fingers stroking the tousled blonde hair.

“Go ‘ta sleep.”

“I can’t,” Ivy whispered back.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just can’t. I’ve been trying.”

A disgruntled noise came from where Harley’s head met the pillow.

“Have ya counted yer plants?”

“Yes.”

“Are ya clenching yer jaw?”

“No.”

“Have ya tried jerkin’ off?” A wicked grin spread across Harley’s pillow.

Ivy shoved her playfully.

Harley took a breath. Finally, she opened her eyes, letting them adjust to the dark a moment before speaking. “I know what’ll help.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Yep. Old trick I learned when Barry was little and I had ‘ta take care a him.”Ivy moved to join her when she got up, but Harley put a hand on her hip and gently pushed her back to the mattress.

“I’ll be right back, babe. You stay snuggled up.” 

Ivy watched her skip off, relishing the sounds her bare feet made on the hardwood. The sounds you can only hear at night, when the rest of the world is finally, beautifully quiet.

She reached over and turned the bedside lamp on, flooding the room with a soft warm light, then squirmed back under the sheets and reached for her phone.

-

A text from Selina: _I can do day-after tomorrow._

A text from Bane, with a photo attached: _What kind. [tree-in-park.jpeg]_

An email: _Zoom Link to 9/25/20 Meeting w/Wayne Corp._

_-_

A string of curse words from the kitchen pulled Ivy from her phone.

“Everything okay, Peanut?”

“FINE, JUST A COUPLE MORE MINUTES! ( _SHIT!)”_

Ivy smiled and leaned into the pillows. Then, against her better judgement, she opened twitter. And honestly, she wasn’t surprised at what she found. It was all shit – no matter which way she scrolled. After a minute or two she flicked to Instagram instead, which was marginally better, as she followed mostly plant and animal accounts. She was watching a video of a baby kangaroo for the 3rd time when Harley returned, holding two mugs.

“What are you watching?”

“Huh? Oh it’s – “ Ivy turned her phone for Harley to see. She squealed immediately.

“Awwwwwee look at him! His little ears ‘n little tail – Red, we should get one! Bud ‘n Lou need a brother, or a sister –”

“We are not getting a kangaroo, Harley.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Do you know how big kangaroos can get?”

Harley shook her head as she climbed onto the bed, sitting cross-legged.

“Like, 8 feet tall. Or more. They’re massive.”

“Oh. Well let’s go ta’ the zoo and see ‘em, then.”

“As soon as we can,” Ivy nodded. “What is that?” She motioned to the mugs in Harley’s hands.

“Hot Cocoa,” she said, reaching one out.

But Ivy didn’t take it. “You think _sugar_ is the solution to my insomnia?”

“Yyyyyyyep!”

“Harls…”

“Nope. No arguments. I’m a doctor. You gotta do what I tell ‘ya.”

She held the mug out again. “And… there’s a splash ‘a Bailey’s in there. And you’re such a lightweight Isley, it’ll knock ‘ya right out.”

With a huff (“I am not”), Ivy took the mug.

Her fingers warming quickly against the ceramic, and like a reflex, her shoulders relaxed down.

Harley snuggled up next to her, curling her legs up so they rested on Ivy’s hip.

Ivy brought the mug to her nose, smelling the whipped cream and dusting of spice. 

“Cinnamon?”

Harley shook her head, hair tickling Ivy’s neck. “Pun’kin Pie Spice. For Halloween.”

“It’s September, Harls. Halloween isn’t for another month.”

“Yeah, I know – and we’re _super_ behind on our couples costume. Now drink your medicine.”

Ivy brought the mug closer, the cool, sweet fluff of whipped cream teasing her lips before the warm chocolate silk flooded her tongue.

“Oat milk?”

“Duh. Do ‘ya like it?”

A nod. Harley felt the woman beside her take a deep breath, relaxing under her weight. She linked a palm inside Ivy’s thigh and squeezed lightly.

“I was thinkin’ maybe, two halves of an avocado? Or – OOOOH – one of those two-person horse costumes – I’ll even let ‘ya be the front.”

Ivy closed her eyes, trying to suppress a laugh with a smile. The effort failed almost immediately, and she was a fit of giggles against the pillows. Even after years of knowing her, months of living and sleeping together, the things that came out of the blonde’s mouth still surprised her.

“We’ll have to remember that one for next year.”

Harley tilted her head. “Why?”

“Well, you know…” Ivy took a breath. “We can’t exactly celebrate. As much as I’d love to see Penguin’s face if the two of us walked into the Iceberg in a horse costume… it’s. Well. You know. This year is different.”

The blonde nodded, but continued undeterred. “Yeah, but I wasn’t thinkin’ about goin’ _out_ out --”

“You want to wear a horse costume around the house?”

“Pammy wouldja just listen!?”

Ivy grinned against her hot chocolate. “Yes, sorry.”

“I was _thinkin’…_ since nobody’s trick or treatin’ this year – maybe we could make up some little goodie bags with candy ‘n honey ‘n seeds ‘n stuff ‘n little skeleton toys – and like, drop ‘em off on folks’ doorstep.”

She looked up to see green eyes watching her closely, patiently, so she continued.

“I know it’s dumb but Halloween it’s – it was me an’ Barry’s favorite holiday ‘cuz we never really got treats the rest ‘a the year. And I just figure all the kids have been inside all year and now they can’t even go out pretendin’ to be zombies or horses or nothin’ and – ”

“Yes. Yes Harley, we can absolutely do that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But I’m not making you walk around in the ass of a horse all night, so let’s do the avocado thing.”

Harley wriggled against her trying to reach up for a kiss, almost spilling Ivy’s cocoa in the process. “I love ‘ya, Ive.”

“I love you too, Harls.”

The wind outside picked up, cooling their room with a colder breeze. Gotham Fall would soon give in to Winter – the days short and sunshine rare. The season always felt like death to Ivy – when the plants slept and froze – it all, everything dulled. Colors. Time. Emotion. She could feel it on the horizon. And this year it seemed an even bigger death. Like something a long time coming, that they couldn’t stop, something big, and powerful.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Harley never pushed, which Ivy was thankful for.“It’s the same stuff as always.”

“So?”

“So… there’s nothing to discuss. It’s just – the same. And I need to… I don’t know. Get over it, I guess.”

She took a drink, letting the liquid warm her throat. Harley breathed against her and began lightly drawing patterns on the dark green skin, watching the goosebumps her touch raised. Ivy knew she was waiting for more – knew that the ex-therapist could sense when to give her space and when to speak, when she was holding back and when she needed quiet. So Ivy continued.

“It’s just – in the beginning – it was perfect. All the “ _earth is healing”_ memes. I mean, humans _are_ the virus. That’s what I’ve been saying for years -- that’s like, my whole thing. And being quarantined with you – it’s been a dream. I mean, I’m a little sick of 90-Day-Fiance but, like, I _love_ you. And I didn’t think I could have that – with anyone.”She paused to take another sip of cocoa, gathering her thoughts.

“But there’s – I don’t know. That time when no one was out driving only lasted a couple weeks. Things are back to exactly what they were before, only worse. I mean fuck, people in Oregon can’t fucking breathe.” 

Harley giggled. Ivy’s head spun, brow furrowed at the small blonde trying to suppress a laugh.

“What about that is funny?”

Harley leaned forward, “You got…” and kissed the tip of her nose. “Whipped cream on your nose.”

“Oh.”

Ivy relaxed again, and Harley moved down to capture her lips. The kiss was soft, innocent, both savoring the taste as if they had all the time in the world. 

“Keep goin’.”

“I don’t know,” Ivy said. “It sounds ridiculous. But the Green – I think it’s… lonely.”

Harley’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Because I – there’s this part of me that feels it. And I never have before. And I know it’s not _me_ because as a rule I hate people – and of course I have _you_ and you’re perfect and enough and –”

The redhead stilled when a hand touched her face, blue eyes pouring into hers.

“Are you done with your cocoa, babe?” Harley took the mug off Ivy’s nod, setting both on her bedside table.

She moved over an inch, then reached an arm out, making a space for Ivy to lean in to. The redhead did, snuggling close and laying her head against Harley’s warm chest…

“It didn’t believe it, when I first felt it. It doesn’t make sense. Humans, they… they don’t deserve the earth, but somehow it’s like… even with the harm they do, the Green isn’t the same without them. God, I can’t believe I’m saying this.”

Ivy focused on the sensation of Harley’s hands in her hair, fingers teasing through tangled red locks and rolling gentle circles along her scalp. Ivy’s voice was a whisper when she spoke again.

“The way things are right now, it just… it isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”

She felt Harley breathe against her, moving one hand to circle her back.

“Why didn’t ‘ya say somethin’ bout not likin’ 90-Day-Fiance?”

A laugh bubbled from Ivy’s chest. “That’s what you got out of all that?”

“Well yeah. That’s like, 70% of how we spend our time.”

“I am well aware.”

“Well soon we’ll be watchin’ Christmas movies and you’ll get a break.”

“Aren’t you Jewish?”

“Yes. But ‘ya can’t beat a good Hallmark original, Pammy.”

“I see.”

It was a moment before Harley spoke again.

“I didn’t know ‘ya could feel stuff like that.”

Ivy nodded against her chest.

“I think if I was a flower I’d miss people lookin’ at me and smellin’ me, too. And things’d be real sad without any grass or trees. Maybe we were made for each other.”

Another nod.

“And you’re right, Red. It isn’t s’posed to be like this… none of it. It’s all fucked six ways ‘ta Sunday and I ain’t sure what to do. And I think I’m a little scared.”

Ivy’s fingers found hers and laced them together.

“But it’s different ‘cuz it’s not like I’m fightin’ Batsy or even like I would get with Mistah Jay, it’s – it’s different. Like it all’s changin’ and there’s no way ‘ta know what’s next. Lately the shit’s been kickin’ us in the face ‘fore we can even get up to fight back.” Harley sighed, looking for the right words... “I can’t promise it’ll be okay, ‘cuz I don’t know. But whatever happens – it’s gonna be you ‘an me.”

“And I know ‘ya don’t like people much, and I get it. We’re fucked up and we do fucked up stuff to the planet and to each other and – and there are people like Mistah Jay who don’t deserve to breathe air…

But I think most of us try ‘ta be okay. A little less fucked up than yesterday. And we’ve failed a lot ‘cuz obviously the situation ain’t ideal right now. But I think… I think people, not any ‘a those government ass-wipes, but people generally… I think they’re tryin.’ And I think tryin’ is all we can do. Try ‘ta fight and try ‘ta love as hard as we can until we just don’t have any breath left.”

“But whatever happens, Ive, you’ve got me.”

Harley pulled her closer, and Ivy let her body rest heavily on the other woman, feeling the support of her skin and muscle. It wasn’t often they lay like this, and she savored it… letting herself be held. To be vulnerable and loved and scared and unsure. A hot chocolate shouldn’t change any of that, but somehow it had.

Because as long as there was Harley, and her arms, and her voice, and her hot chocolate, everything else seemed to fall away.

“I love you, Harley.”

Harley laid a kiss on the red hair beneath her.

“Do ‘ya wanna hear about the Halloween Barry ‘n I made ol’ Mrs. Gabler think her house was haunted by a child ghost?”

“Yes, I do.”

Harley started in on the story, but it wasn’t five minutes before Ivy’s breathing steadied and became heavier on her chest. So she reached across the bed and flicked off the light, pulling the quilt back over them both.

Morning would come in a few hours, and they would face it just like they had every day for the last year. They’d bear it in whatever unrelenting form it took – because this year of hell couldn’t kill them. Sleepless nights and endless days wouldn’t win because they would keep going. Keep trying. Keep loving. Desperately, they would keep loving. 

**Author's Note:**

> I had way too much fun thinking of Harley and Ivy in Halloween couples costumes. What would y'all put them in?? 
> 
> Also, here's a link to that kangaroo video. I've literally watched it so many times. https://www.instagram.com/p/CFS1SiOA7Cz/
> 
> I hope this resonated, and wasn't too sad, but hopeful.


End file.
